


Take The Red For What It's Worth

by madetobeworthy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, bottom!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madetobeworthy/pseuds/madetobeworthy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The <i>make me bleed</i> bit was fun and new and a little dangerous and maybe that’s why Stiles loved it so much. It also worked both ways, and Stiles would be a liar if he said that wasn’t another reason why he enjoyed it.</p>
<p>Like now, when he found himself crowding Derek across the room, getting so into his personal space he had no choice but to step back and back until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and Stiles shoved him over. Everyone made it seem like Derek was some sort of predator, but he didn’t hold a flame to Stiles on the hunt for something he really wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take The Red For What It's Worth

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted to write something that played into my blood kink. Thus this came about. I hope you enjoy it, even though I didn't proof read or have it beta'd because I'm really fucking lazy.
> 
> If you feel I didn't tag well enough, or there may be other triggers aside from the blood kink, let me know!
> 
> Title is lyrics from "Let It Bleed" by The Used.

It started after a run in with vampires. It must be a natural progression, or at least Stiles thought it must have been. Because vampires go for blood. Human blood. His blood specifically. Derek had lost it then, and the would-be vampire invasion of Beacon Hills was short lived because they targeted the wrong human. His human.

Stiles had always known that what he had with Derek, whatever it was, was comparable to a whisper that ghosted across bare flesh. There one moment and gone the next. It wasn’t a secret, not by a long shot. But everyone - Stiles included - had enough tact to not discuss it. But Derek was still possessive enough of any member of his pack that the slightest threat to them had him up in arms, reminding the world of what was rightfully _his_.

When it was there, moments like these, Stiles cherished it. Relished in it, not because he was lonely or desperate, but because it could vanish at any moment. Because he knew Derek and he were the same. It wasn’t as simple as the loss of family because almost everyone in their group, in their rag-tag pack of miscreants, shared that loss. It was something deeper. It was what had turned them into hardened shells, echoes of who they once were. Stiles still had a rounded softness to him, and Derek was rediscovering his own. But when they were alone together in the dark, that was when the walls came down and they tore into the tenderness of each other’s hearts. Hearts hidden away from the world in secret boxes in dark places, not worn on the sleeve.

Maybe it was love, maybe it wasn’t. Stiles had never called it into question and Derek was never one to initiate that sort of conversation.

Stiles had been covered in blood, some of it his own, some of it Derek’s. Most of it belonged to a trio of vampires that hadn’t made it through the night. He’d managed to wipe most of it off, shed some of his outer layers of clothing before getting into the Camaro. Though he hadn’t really made it into the car, not before Derek had pinned him against it. A full body pin with all of his weight leaning against Stiles, eyes flashing red as he pressed his nose into the curve of Stiles’ neck, breathed against his skin, nipped at the shell of his ear.

“Oh.” Stiles breathed, his fingers curling into Derek’s shirt instinctively. 

“You were bit.” Derek states, there’s no room for it to be a question. Somewhere in the fray Stiles supposed that yes, yes he did get bit. He could feel the prickling of skin trying to scab over in the junction of his elbow. It had hurt, but not any sort of hurt that he wasn’t used to. A bite was a bite, this one just broke the skin.

“Oh.” Stiles said again, recalling the exact moment he felt the teeth on his arm when he was stuck under two vampires that had tackled him to the ground. The sound he’d made at that moment hadn’t been pain or fear, it had been the same sort of needy gasp that Derek ground out of him with a nip here or a bite there.

He wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck, pressing his hips forward and finding the curve of Derek’s ear with his lips. “Jealous?” He purred, eliciting a growl in reply. Stiles laughed playfully and thought about how exciting and new this was, and how it did-but-didn’t scare him as the next words came tumbling out of his mouth.

“Well, I’m not entirely opposed to you making me bleed a little too, you know.”

▴▾▴▾

The _make me bleed_ bit was fun and new and a little dangerous and maybe that was why Stiles loved it so much. It also worked both ways, and Stiles would be a liar if he said that wasn’t another reason why he enjoyed it.

Like now, when he found himself crowding Derek across the room, getting so into his personal space he had no choice but to step back and back until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and Stiles shoved him over. Everyone made it seem like Derek was some sort of predator, but he didn’t hold a flame to Stiles on the hunt for something he really wanted. He crawled onto the bed, kneeling above Derek as he straddled his waist.

Once upon a time this alone had driven Stiles’ heart into his throat with a jack-rabbity pace that Derek couldn’t help but chuckle at. Fear in the face of sex, it was just so Stiles. But that was a long time ago, Stiles stopped smelling and tasting distinctly of fear sometime around seventeen, and now the only thing that scared him was the unexpected. Derek should have been disappointed he was no longer deemed a threat to a human’s fight or flight response, but he just couldn’t bring himself to it when Stiles leaned over him like this.

He traced his long fingers over Derek’s chest in intricate patterns down, down, down, as he leaned in to press the lines of their lips together. He breathed a sigh across Derek’s lips and they parted; Stiles hummed in approval. He kissed Derek like he needed him to breathe as his fingers found the hem of his shirt and wiggled their way under the fabric. He moved his hands back up, dragging the heels of his palms along heated flesh as he lifted the shirt until he finally had to break the kiss that left them gasping as he tried to tug the shirt off. Derek rolled his body up to allow for it and Stiles managed to get it over his head and off his arms. He tossed it aside without much thought for where it landed and moved to attack Derek’s bared flesh with his mouth.

Derek hissed as Stiles’ teeth sunk into the thin skin stretched over his collarbone, bringing his own hands up to drag across the fabric covering Stiles’ back with blunt nails. Stiles took it as a sign that the shirt needed to go and slowly pulled himself away from Derek to sit up properly and pull it off, sending it to the floor alongside Derek’s. He stared down at the slick, red mark that was slowly ebbing away from sight on Derek’s skin before reaching out to press his fingers against it. It was still tender enough to make Derek bare his teeth at him.

“Didn’t you say once that you can control the healing rate?” Stiles asked gingerly, pulling his hand away and shifting his focus to his face with one of those coy smiles he loved to give the werewolf.

“Yes.” Derek replied, still not much of one for words. 

“Well,” Stiles continued on, looking down at himself and the thin white lines that were barely visible anymore that zig-zagged across his chest, evidence of a particularly messy romp the previous month, “It’s not fair that you get to see this on me, but I can’t see it on you.”

“Do you want to do that tonight?” Derek asked, reaching up to brush his fingers over the marks that would be gone before the moon was full again. They were always careful not to leave scars.

“I want there to be proof that I did.”

Derek looked contemplative for a moment, he knew that the little cuts that Stiles implemented would be gone on him faster than Stiles’ own even if he willed his healing powers to slow. But the eager look on Stiles face told Derek he was already going to agree to this, he had a hell of a time denying Stiles what he wanted when they were together like this.

“I can do that.” He agreed. Stiles let out a small whoop and leaned down to crash their lips together in a very sloppy kiss that nearly missed altogether. Derek couldn’t help the small upward tick of his lips as they kissed. But it was over as soon as it begun as Stiles slid off Derek and vanished out the door. Derek shucked his pants, kicking them ungracefully off the edge of the bed as he waited for Stiles to return. It wasn’t a very common occurrence for them to do this, a once in awhile thing. But it always seemed to ground Stiles in the way that it reminded him of their mortality, while Derek found a sort of comforting release in the pain. The first time it had happened and they emerged smelling like blood and sex, the rest of the pack had kept their distance in a confused fashion. They didn’t need to understand, Derek didn’t think he and Stiles always understood it.

“Oh.” Stiles gasped as he stepped back into the room to find Derek spread across the bed and palming himself over the fabric of his boxer-briefs. He still never fully got over the sight. He approached the bed and leaned over to place the wood-handled silver blade they liked to use. Silver didn’t hurt Derek the way all the lore suggested, but Stiles had always been amused by the poeticness of using this particular blade. They were always very careful and made sure to keep it clean and stored safely if they weren’t using it. Derek might heal if something bad happened, but Stiles might not.

Derek reached down and ran the pads of his fingers along the sharp blade as Stiles wiggled his way out of his jeans. Once he was free of the denim, he threw himself onto the bed causing Derek to bounce a bit.

“Yeah, jump on the bed while I have a knife resting on my stomach, by all means.”

“Oh suck it up, Sourwolf.” Stiles cooed, sitting up on his knees and shuffling forward until he was straddling Derek again. He gave him a wicked grin as he settled on his hips, grinding his ass down against Derek’s erection. The moan it won him had Stiles’ skin breaking out in little goosebumps.

“You’re such a --” Derek’s words cut off as Stiles rolled his hips again.

“Such a what? You were going to say dick or ass and I would have laughed at you. I had to stop it.”

“Nuisance.” Derek snorted and Stiles mock-sulked as he picked up the silver blade from Derek’s stomach. 

“Be careful what you say, wolfboy. You’re not the only one armed tonight.” He hummed, lightly pressing the blade against Derek’s pec and dragging it down slowly. Derek let out a strangled noise somewhere between a hiss and a moan as the shallow cut welled up and then overflowed with blood. Stiles grinned and leaned down to kiss him, always a reward for the pain.

It was still a little mind-boggling that they could trust each other enough for this.

Stiles sat back, making sure to wiggle his hips just to elicit more moans from Derek, and studied the way the blood ran in little rivulets down Derek’s side one way, and collected in the hollow if his clavicle the other. He pressed the blade down again on the opposite side of the first cut and a little lower against his chest before making another shallow cut. It ran a little longer than the first and Derek arched up against the pain. Stiles shushed him with soothing murmurs and a couple reassuring strokes over his belly.

Another cut and Derek let out a soft whine, telling Stiles it was time to stop for a moment. He’d been true to his word though, and not a single cut had stitched itself up. Derek panted, not quite accustomed to the sensation of the pain lingering like this. Stiles set aside the blade and leaned over to kiss Derek again, a slow, sweet kiss. When Derek seemed to ease up, Stiles rolled his hips and was met with Derek’s doing the same. They did that for a while, kissing and grinding into each other until Derek was making this noise that was just so dirty and wild in the back of his throat and Stiles had to sit up to collect himself a moment.

He wiggled his way down a little further and started to kiss a trail down Derek’s torso, not caring that he was tracking the blood with him in little wet spots. He reached the waistband of Derek’s underwear and sat back, hooking his fingers under the band and giving a couple small tugs. Derek clued in and lifted his hips so Stiles could strip him of the last of his clothing. He was achingly hard and the head of his cock was already glistening with precum. 

“God, look at you.” Stiles breathed, like each time he got to see Derek held him in complete awe. He grinned and Derek could feel his cock twitch at the sight of him with blood smeared on his lips and chin and a little flecked across one cheek. He looked feral, like he might devour Derek whole, and that thought alone was exciting enough to make him want to come.

“ _Fuck_ , Stiles.” He groaned, his hips bucking with the anticipation of what was to come. Once again Stiles was shushing him, one hand wrapping firmly around the base of his cock and the other reaching for the blade once more. He gave Derek a few slow strokes, pressing his thumb up along the ridge of the head while he leaned forward and steadied his arm on Derek’s torso so he could make another small incision along his hip.

“Fuck!” Derek cried as his whole body gave a violent shake with the sensory overload. Stiles didn’t shush him this time, just let the knife clatter to the floor as he stroked his hand over Derek’s thigh. He waited until Derek stopped shaking to kiss him.

“Okay?” He asked, fingers smudging red along the high point of Derek’s cheekbone.

“Yeah.” Derek breathed, “Yeah.”

Stiles smiled at him, looking less feral now, and gave him another brief kiss before leaning over to reach for the lube tucked into the drawer of the nightstand. 

The first time Stiles had decided he was going to fuck Derek, and not the other way around, there had been a fight. Stiles had a split lip and Derek would have had a black eye if he didn’t heal so damn fast. It had been loud and angry and somewhat terrifying for Derek but it had happened regardless. Because Stiles may have been the human, the breakable one, but he was resilient and stubborn. At the same time he was gentle and caring in a way most wouldn’t see from him if it didn’t serve him in some purpose. It wasn’t a common practice in their relationship, Stiles was more than happy to let Derek fuck him until he felt like he was a part of the mattress, but sometimes it was really, really fun to change that around. Derek was a lot more adjusted to the idea now.

Stiles popped the cap and poured a fair amount of lube into his clean hand, always careful not to mix the lube and the blood because as much as he liked things messy, he didn’t like them that messy. He had to draw the line somewhere. He murmured at Derek, incoherent nothings to keep him quiet and reassured as he circled his hole with his finger before pressing just one in. Derek gasped then sighed then hissed as Stiles dug his fingers into the cut on his hip as his other curled and searched and found just the right spot to have his hips lifting off the bed.

“Stiles.” Derek grit out with clenched teeth, “Stiles, I--”

“I know.” Stiles said, gripping Derek’s thigh and smearing blood there. He slipped another finger inside him, purposefully moving them slowly, dragging it out as he bent over to kiss over the length of Derek’s cock and mouth at his balls in a manner that could only be teasing. It worked as Derek’s hips rolled up seeking friction, as he groaned with _want want want_. 

“Stiles I swear to god if you don’t--”

“You’re so fucking _pushy_.” Stiles snorted, cutting him off. Derek opened his mouth to protest but Stiles just dug his fingers into another cut and all that came out was a choked off whine. “I know how to fuck you, Derek. You gotta be more patient.”

Derek decided Stiles was most likely evil and it was probably only because of Scott that they got to keep him on the morally ambiguous good side.

Stiles’ words, however, fell flat because no sooner had he told Derek to be patient, he immediately became the most impatient of the two of them. He pulled his fingers from Derek - which earned him another needy whine - and gracelessly wiped them on the sheets. They needed to go anyway, Derek’s blood spilled in droplets and splotches where it had run off his body now stained the cotton and Stiles was not going to sit there trying to work it out.

He gripped at Derek’s thighs and hips, trying to angle him just right and managing to smear even more blood across both of them. He teased Derek with barely there pressure with a few shallow thrusts where the head of his cock just barely touched him. Derek let out a desperate keen and Stiles took pity on him. Finally, _finally_ , he pressed forward, pushing until his hips met Derek’s. He stilled for a short moment, allowing Derek to adjust, to pant and grasp at the sheets, and then his arms. His eyes flashed red and Stiles couldn’t help but smirk because it would always turn him on because _holy crap werewolves were so_ fucking _cool_.

They started slow, Stiles setting the pace with shallow thrusts so he could amuse himself with more kisses across Derek’s body. He dragged his fingers through the blood at Derek’s collarbone, making three parallel lines down his body. When he lifted his head to kiss him, there was more blood on his lips and it smeared across Derek’s. 

After that everything got a bit more _frantic_. Derek clutched at Stiles like a lifeline, trying to bite back gasps and moans and muttering a jumble of words that didn’t really flow well stitched together with punctuated _fuck_ ’s and _Stiles_. Stiles settled back on his knees and grasped Derek’s hips firmly, dragging him as close as he could as his hips snapped viciously into him. Derek maintained enough coherence to reach down and jerk himself off. Neither of their rhythms matched and it was messy and sloppy. 

Stiles came first, a hoarse cry tumbling from his lips. His body bowed forward, curved over Derek to press his forehead against his chest as he panted heavily and tried to see more than white spots on the insides of his eyelids. Derek grabbed him by the hair and lifted his head, at first Stiles thought for a kiss, but when he came a moment later he realized it was so it wouldn’t catch him in the eye or go up his nose or something else equally embarrassing. Stiles felt an overwhelming surge of affection and attacked Derek’s mouth, only he would find it so endearing that Derek always remembered how much he hated getting come on his face. 

Eventually Stiles pulled away and flopped down in an exhausted heap next to Derek who continued to lay still. It took a while for either of them to really come back to their senses. Naturally it was Stiles first, he propped himself up on an elbow and leaned over for a kiss before wiping away some of the blood from Derek’s lips. He groaned and stretched out his limbs until something popped and, after heaving a huge sigh of contentment, swung his legs of the edge of the bed. It took him another moment to get up, but that may have been because Derek was stroking his back and not because he was totally wiped from their romp. 

He did get up though, pushing himself to his feet and stumbling his way through the room. He didn’t even bother with clothes as he slipped out of the room, confident enough that if there were any other wolves home at the moment they were staying decidedly put downstairs, and headed for the bathroom. He studied himself in the mirror for a moment, the drying blood on his face making him look like some sort of crazed animal. He bared his teeth at himself to see how feral he could look and just ended up laughing at himself. 

Stiles decided to just wash the blood off himself there first, scrubbing his face and his hands and the spots on his arms and legs that had gotten streaked with red, before carrying a warm, damp cloth back to the room. Derek almost looked like he was asleep, sprawled across the bed with his limbs akimbo in the most careless of ways. 

“You’re starting to sleep like me, dude.” 

“Don’t call me dude.” Derek huffed, cracking an eye to watch Stiles approach the bed. 

“Oh, my bad. _Bro_.” Stiles snorted, just to irk Derek. It succeeded since Derek closed his eye and went back to pretending to sleep. Not that Stiles minded anyway as he knelt on the bed and started to wipe the blood and come and lube away from Derek’s body. He always felt a little hyper-aware of Derek watching him stare at his body and it unnerved him sometimes. But he smiles anyway because Derek’s stayed true to his word and while the bleeding in the wounds has slowed to barely sluggish, they’re still there, still open and raw. Just as Stiles had wanted to see them. He was careful to clean them, knowing they wouldn’t get infected, but would still sting. Derek was a trooper and merely clenched his jaw. 

Finally Stiles threw the cloth to the ground and flopped down next to Derek, pressing right up against his side. 

“Are you sleeping?” he asked after a minute. 

Derek’s voice is gruff, probably because he’s already halfway there. “Would be if you ever shut up.” 

“And people say romance is dead.” Stiles snorts, but otherwise shuts his mouth and stays quiet. He’s always loved that Derek was a closet cuddler and liked to nap after sex, it was a plan Stiles could really get behind. 

▴▾▴▾

Three days later all evidence of the cuts on Derek are gone, so Stiles bites his shoulder and says they’ll just have to do it again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have no witty segway to end this so how about I just plug my tumblr and call it a day?
> 
>  
> 
> [madetobeworthy](http://madetobeworthy.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> Oh yeah, some songs that helped bring this along and are worth a listen to:  
> Monster - Lady Gaga  
> Closer - Nine Inch Nails  
> One Track Mind - Papa Roach  
> Hands All Over - Maroon 5  
> Pretty When You Cry - VAST  
> Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge  
> Girl I Know - Avenged Sevenfold  
> Ava Adore - Smashing Pumpkins  
> Bedroom Hymns - Florence + The Machine
> 
> [[here have a playlist](http://8tracks.com/cantcontrol/take-the-red-for-what-it-s-worth)]


End file.
